


Women's Games

by Unsentimentalf



Category: Robin Hood BBC
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-01
Updated: 2010-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-06 22:29:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unsentimentalf/pseuds/Unsentimentalf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate is captured by a dangerously unstable opponent</p>
            </blockquote>





	Women's Games

_ **FIC Women's Games ** _

Title: Women's Games  
Author: Unsentimental Fool  
Fandom: BBC Robin Hood  
Pairing: Kate/Isabella  
Rating: NC-17  
Word Count: 4,500  
Summary: Kate is captured by a dangerously unstable opponent  
Notes/Warnings: Non consensual in parts. Set between 3.9 and 3.10. Guy managed to muscle his way in on this one. somehow.  
Please note this is not intended as KateHateFic. I give her a hard time in exactly the same way I do everyone else.

The other outlaws had vanished.

Kate feinted at the man on her left, swung the heavy sword at the other man. Playing for time; if Robin didn't come back she was dead. She wondered how much it hurt, having a sword through your guts. How much it had hurt her brother. Her fine hair was sticking to the sweat on her face, her skirt tangled around her legs. Any time now, Robin, she thought desperately.

A sharp voice from her right. "I want prisoners!" The men backed up slightly and Kate felt renewed hope. If she could kill one... Then both men were closing, her sword trapped, pushed upwards. One man reached forward, almost casually, wrestled the hilt from her hand. Disarmed, she was conscious that her opponents were men, were a head taller and much heavier than her.

Isabella strode across the courtyard towards them, looked at her disdainfully. Kate was suddenly aware of her rough clothes, dirtied from the scrambling over the walls, her skirt ripped in the fight. Isabella was cool in perfect silks.

"Didn't we get any of the real outlaws?" The leader of the guards shook his head. Isabella grimaced. "She'll have to do. I suppose one hanging's very like another." She looked at Kate with dislike. "I doubt that Robin Hood will bother coming to rescue you. That should save some trouble, at least."

"He will." Kate was indignant.

"You're going to try to claim you're his lover." Isabella curled her lip.

"No. I'm one of his gang."

Isabella snorted. "And that's how you'll stay. He has better taste than insipid blonde children, girl." She grabbed Kate's arm, walked up to the steps to the main building entrance.

"Men!"

Quiet as the dozen guards turned to the two women.

"This," she shook Kate's arm," is an outlaw, apparently. If you catch her trying to escape, you have my permission to punish her any way you like, before you hand her back over to me."

A couple of the men laughed. She would not be intimidated, Kate told herself. The shiver wasn't her; it was the hand on her arm.

"There." Isabella sounded satisfied but her voice shook a little. "You won't be trying to run away now, will you?" She started to pull Kate along, snapped at a servant. "Wine and food in my quarters. Now." The captain of the guard intercepted them to ask about pursuing the outlaws. "Just do your job!" Isabella snapped without looking at him, walked faster.

Kate stopped, realisation dawning. "You're frightened of them. They're meant to be guarding you, and you're scared that they'll turn on you."

Fingers tightened. "Come along."

Now she'd seen it, it was everywhere. Isabella's flinch from the guards that they passed, even the servants. The bolt on the door when they reached the Sheriff's private quarters.

Isabella pushed her to the floor, sat on the bed, glaring down at her. "I am in control, girl...what's your name again?"

"Kate."

"Well, Kate, I am Sheriff now. These men do what I tell them."

"What if they stop?" Kate ventured, cruelly. "Those men in the courtyard were looking at you as much as at me."

Isabella shook her head. "Your friends aren't protecting you today. Prince John appointed me. I have powerful allies.They won't turn on me. They can't." Kate could see her shivering.

Kate was almost sorry for her. But not quite. This woman had manipulated Robin, had betrayed them all.

"What do you want with me?"

Isabella frowned. "I'm going to interrogate you." She seemed unsure as to how to begin.

Kate looked at the two wine cups, the cakes. "You want some company." Isabella's head snapped up, eyes fierce.

"Yes. Why not? This place is full of men and women I can't trust. I don't need to trust you. I don't have to like you. You're nothing and no-one. I'll probably have you hanged tomorrow. Have some wine."

Kate shrugged. If she got Isabella drunk, she might be able to escape. She climbed off the floor, poured out the wine, passed a cup to the Sheriff.

Company, for Isabella, apparently meant someone to complain to. Kate found out far more than she wanted to about Isabella's recently deceased husband. Even allowing for the woman's obvious exaggeration, he had clearly been cruel.

Isabella moved on to the deficiencies of her brother, and here Kate, tipsy from the strong wine, was happy to join in. He was, they agreed, a heartless vicious animal and execution would be too good for him. Though Kate was coming to dislike Isabella even more than before, she had to admit that locking the man up was a laudable act.

"All men are bastards." Isabella slurred. "Yes." Kate agreed. "Except Robin."

Isabella sloshed her cup down. "Especially Robin."

"No," Kate protested. "He's a good man."

"Good man, crap." Isabella leaned over to where Kate was sitting on the floor, breathed wine fumes into her face. "Has he taken you to bed?"

Kate had to think about that for a moment. Thinking was getting harder. "No." she decided.

"Has he made love to me?"

Kate was guessing here. "No?"

"No. Bloody right. He's messing us about here, girl. You and me."

That seemed to make sense to Kate. Certainly he wasn't doing what she wanted him to do. And he did keep kissing Isabella. "What can we do? He's a bloody man. They make the rules." A couple of hours of Isabella's belligerence was starting to rub off on her..

"We make our own rules." Isabella slid down off the bed to sit beside Kate. "Fuck him."

Kate wasn't entirely surprised at this point that their own rules seemed to involve Isabella kissing her. For a woman so spiky in temperament Isabella had very soft lips, and surprisingly gentle hands. Kate found her own hands unlacing the Sheriff's bodice at her command, cupping her breasts, hearing the woman gasp in pleasure. Somewhere at the back of her head someone was telling her that this was wrong, but she ignored it. It was just the wine, making her misbehave. Not her fault, really.

So when Isabella pulled her clothes off, she reciprocated. When a hand slid between her legs, she let her thighs fall apart. When her own hand slid across a smooth stomach, she let it carry on downwards, through surprisingly short hair, into a warmth that pushed up against the whole length of her palm.

Isabella's fingers were on her, now and sanity nearly surfaced, but the older woman's mouth was sucking at her nipple and she didn't care any more. All she wanted was the woman's touch, harder now, God, yes, there, far better than her own familiar movements. It took a while; she really was drunk by now, but Isabella was persistent and she cried out, just a little, muscles tense and then limp. Isabella's hand was over hers now, pressing her fingers down as the woman moved under them.

"Oh, yes." Isabella released Kate's hand, satisfied. Lifted a hand to push Kate's hair out of her face. "I think I'll keep you around." She pulled the compliant and near comatose Kate into the bed with her.

Kate woke, in the dark of the night. Her head hurt and she wanted to be sick. There was a warm body curled up against hers; her mother, she thought, then remembered.

Oh Christ. She crawled carefully off the bed. There was a single candle alight at the foot of the bed; she found her shift and Isabella's cloak, couldn't find anything else in the near darkness.

She unbolted the door, very quietly, opened it a crack. The guards on either side of the doorway looked at her. One said something to the other and they laughed. They'd probably been in the courtyard. She flashed them an apologetic smile, closed and bolted the door again.

Kate unshuttered the window. Third storey, and nothing but cobblestones beneath and another couple of guards. If she'd been Robin, maybe she could have found a way down, but she was nothing but a stupid peasant girl, in far too deep.

She sat in the window seat and waited. Maybe Robin would come before morning. She'd have to explain why she was in Isabella's quarters- she could say that the woman had been questioning her. Anything but the truth.

Light had started showing in the sky when she heard the throaty voice from behind her.

"Come back to bed, Kate."

"No." She forced herself to look round at Isabella. "That was wrong. Immoral."

The dark woman frowned, pushing loose hair from her face. "You don't get to have a conscience, girl. You're a prisoner, remember. Get over here now."

"No." She went back to looking out of the window. Behind her she could hear the rustling of clothes, the unbolting of the door.

"Last chance, Kate. You're going to regret disobedience." She ignored the words.

Isabella to the guards outside. "Bring her." They were in the room, had her by an arm each, were dragging her backwards out of the room. She cursed and kicked, to no avail.

Backwards, she couldn't work out where they were going. She didn't know the castle at all. There were more men, louder; she worked out that they were going past the guardroom only when they were past the entrance. At least Isabella wouldn't do that. Downwards, and the cells. Isabella had a quick word with the jailer, who unlocked a cell and Kate was pushed inside. She almost laughed. Did Isabella really think that a cold cell was punishment? Far better this than the Sheriff's bed. Then Isabella spoke, to someone behind Kate.

"I've brought you a little present, brother. I'll be back later to collect her," and she turned on her heel and left, taking the jailer and the two guards with her.

Kate froze. Backed up against the lit end of the cell. At the other end some one was moving forwards, watching her.

"So." The voice was low. "My sister thinks that she can use me, still." Guy came forward, unshaven, tired, but with eyes bright.

"Don't touch me." Kate nearly squealed. He looked at her, frowned. "I know you, don't I?"

"You killed my brother," she hissed at him. He nodded. "The rebel girl. I remember. I sent a man back to kill you, didn't I?"

"I had gone by then. Joined Robin Hood."

His head went up, suddenly alert. "You're with Hood. His woman?"

"No." Why did everyone ask her that? "I'm one of his gang."

He raised an eyebrow, seeming amused. "But from your voice, you'd like to be. You and Isabella both. He's still in mourning, then. Faithful bloody hound.

"So, you're an outlaw. And my sister's rival for Hood's affections. Both of those would see you hanged, or a knife between your ribs, not thrown in with me. What does she want with you, Kate?"

He was considering her as if she were a puzzle, not a person. Any moment he could turn on her. She shuddered. "None of your concern."

"Apparently it is. Let's try a different question. What does she expect me to do with you?"

Kate took a breath. "She expects...she thinks all men are brutes. Animals."

Guy nodded. "I imagine she might. Well, it will give me great pleasure to disappoint her, but what will she do with you when she finds you unravished?"

Kate's knees finally gave way and she huddled on the cell floor. "I don't know." To her embarrassment she found herself sobbing.

Guy didn't move forward to comfort her. There was a pause, before he spoke to her again.

"Do you know what she wants?"

"Yes." She sniffed.

"Then my advice to you would be to give it to her. That bitch can doubtless find men more co-operative than me. If you're with Hood, he'll turn up and rescue you sooner or later." He turned away, apparently done with the conversation.

He was right. What Isabella wanted her to do was wrong, but not as wrong as what would happen to her if she didn't.

There was a long silence. Kate found she couldn't stop crying. She wanted to apologise, wanted desperately not to annoy the man at the other end of the small cell, but he seemed indifferent.

Eventually Guy spoke again.

"On consideration, I think it might suit me to live down to my sister's prejudices." His voice was cold. Kate shivered. Please, no, she prayed silently. She couldn't open her mouth to beg. He moved forward, looked down at her. "Stand up."

She struggled to her feet, terrified to disobey. He reached out with both hands, ripped her shift half way down the front. She screamed.

Guy stepped back. Kate was struggling to keep her breasts covered, whimpering in shock. He looked at her in some satisfaction. "That should do. You certainly look the part." He smiled at her, almost warm. "I won't tell her if you don't." And he retreated back into the darkness. Kate huddled against the front of the cell, sniffing.

Boots coming down the stairs. Isabella walked down to the cell, looked down at Kate. Kate thought she looked absolutely horrified.

Guy's low voice. "She'll do what she's told now, sister."

Isabella looked into the darkness. "You're no better than he was. Just like him." Her voice was high with shock.

"Now that I've obliged you, Isabella, how about obliging me? I want out of here." His voice was a growl.

"You're going nowhere." Her voice was shakily triumphant. "I'm going to have you executed like the murderer and rapist you are."

"Bitch." Kate thought Guy sounded satisfied. She didn't understand the game he played with Isabella. She had good reason to hate both of them. Still, she desperately hoped that Isabella would stay fooled.

"Poor Kate." Isabella was crouched against the bars, a hand on her shoulder. "We'll get you out of here. Away from him. Poor girl." She was carried up to Isabella's rooms, where a hot bath was swiftly drawn. Isabella was all consideration. "Do you need wine? A physician?"

"Just rest, please" Kate played victim, careful not to overdo it. Careful not to scream at the hypocrisy. The woman must be insane.

Bathed and dried, dressed in one of Isabella's nightgowns and tucked up in the Sheriff's bed, Kate was beginning to feel genuinely better. The Sheriff had business to attend to; Kate was left with a servant in the room and guards outside it. At some point Isabella would come back and expect a repeat of last night. Kate had done everything that she possibly could to avoid it. It wasn't going to be her fault, this time.

Maybe she'd be rescued before then. Maybe she'd find some way to escape. Maybe Isabella would come back, send the servant away, bolt the door and then kiss her, running her hands across Kate's breasts, and down to the warmth between her legs. Kate found her own fingers there, through the linen nightgown. She glanced, guilty, at the servant, who was sitting in the light from the window, mending a gown.

She hated mad, cruel Isabella. She was a captive, forced, unwilling. So why was it the woman's footsteps she was waiting for, not Robin's? She clasped her hands, firmly, closed her eyes, tried to sleep.

Kate woke to lips on hers. She lay, relaxed, sprawled across the bed, as a tongue pushed its way between her teeth, explored her mouth. No point in fighting it, she thought, drowsily. It wasn't like real sex. Not even the Church really cared. Only what happened when men's parts were involved counted as sex. Isabella couldn't do anything like that to her.

Isabella pulled away and Kate opened her eyes. The Sheriff was smiling down at her. "Going to play nicely?"

Kate nodded.

"Good girl." Isabella pulled the covers back. "Slip out of that then."

Kate had been hoping to keep the gown on, but she wasn't going to argue about it. She flicked a glance to make sure the door was bolted, then slid the linen over her head, sat naked on the bed, self conscious and distinctly chilly.

"Very nice." Isabella stretched out a hand, ran fingers over a nipple. "So young. I was young and pretty, once."

"You're beautiful." Kate meant it. Those deep blue eyes, that long dark hair. Blondes were ten a penny. She lifted a hand to Isabella's cheek.

"Don't!" Isabella jerked backwards. "Don't touch me!" She glared at Kate. "My husband used to call me beautiful. Used to do that.

Kate looked at her in confusion. If she didn't want to be touched, what did she want?

Isabella stood up, walked to a chest, pulled out two lengths of satin cord. She started to knot one around the bottom bedpost. Kate shook her head.

"I said I'd do what you told me to. You don't need to tie me up."

Isabella smiled at her, slightly sadly. "I used to say that, too. Until I understood that it's not about obedience. It's about control. Put your ankle through this loop."

There were still guards outside the door, and a twenty foot drop from the window. Kate did what she was told.

The room was cold. Isabella's hands were welcome warmth, sliding across her stomach, along her thighs. The bonds weren't uncomfortable, but they would tighten if she struggled. This way, she had no choices. Kate relaxed into the mattress, resigned to her growing state of arousal. Soon, Isabella would touch her sex, and very shortly after that the thing would happen, whether she fought it or not, so there was no point in fighting it. Hands smoothed up the inside of her thighs and she murmured in pleasure.

Isabella had undressed down to her fine linen shift. Kate hoped to see the other woman's breasts, but they were still decently covered. Her own had been stroked until the nipples were hard and aching. She wanted to touch the older woman, do things to her, but spreadeagled across the bed, she could do nothing but lie still. Isabella was drawing her fingers through Kate's hair, unbraiding it. She rested the back of her hand across Kate's mouth, laughed as Kate kissed it.

"You want this, don't you?" She placed her hand, very lightly, over Kate's sex and Kate pushed upwards, shamelessly desperate for contact.

"Not yet." Isabella pulled lightly at Kate's tangled blonde pubic hair. "I'd forgotten, what this felt like." She looked past Kate, towards the bedpost. "He liked me to be neat."

Kate didn't really care about the woman's ex-husband's preferences. She closed her eyes again, panting.

Isabella shifted down to the end of the bed. Kate opened her eyes, saw the woman inspecting her sex, closed them again, embarrassed. Nails dragged along her thigh and she tensed. A finger pushed inside her and she recoiled.

"Don't..."

"Don't what, Kate? Do this?" The finger pushed harder, further in; there was barely room for it. It felt obscene, shaming, like she imagined sex might feel. The finger moved inside her and she suddenly convulsed in unexpected pleasure.

"There." The finger was withdrawn, pushed in again; two this time, she realised. It hurt. There wasn't room, but the fingers were pushing anyway. She cried out in pain, arousal gone.

"Lying little bitch." Isabella was pushing much harder, voice icy. "Lying little fucking bitch." Kate was crying now, pain and shock. Isabella pulled out, leaned over to look at her face. "You're a bloody virgin, aren't you?"

She'd never said otherwise. Why had that upset Isabella? She nodded, crying too hard to speak.

"So how the hell do you manage to be a virgin after my brother has done with you, pretty little Kate?"

Oh.

She managed to gasp out a few words. "He didn't do anything to me."

"He told me he did. And I didn't hear you contradict him. Snivelling in the corner with your shift torn. Deceitful little bitch."

Kate blinked tears out of her eyes. This wasn't fair. "If I told you he didn't, you'd have found someone else to do it. I didn't want to be raped, Isabella." The last was a wail.

Blue eyes glared down at her. Then Isabella laughed, tension gone. "No. I imagine you didn't. Poor little Kate. I'll deal with my brother later."

Isabella seemed content enough to pick up where they'd left off, but Kate had lost all sense of arousal. The bonds were uncomfortable, the air cold enough to give her goosebumps, the woman's touch made her struggle not to shudder and fingers brushed across her groin found nothing to stimulate. And where Isabella's fingers had pushed inside, it hurt, sharp and persistent.

Isabella was losing her temper, again. "I thought you were doing what you were told," she hissed, running her fingers across crumpled nipples, pinching viciously.

"I'm trying." Kate was fighting back yet more tears. She felt nothing now but vulnerable and frightened. What if Isabella found someone else to do what Guy had refused to? Like the guards outside? The woman was getting more and more annoyed, and Kate couldn't do anything but sniffle.

Isabella slid off the bed, walked over to the table to get a cup of wine. "Hell with you," she called back over her shoulder. "You're not getting away with this. Crying isn't going to help you."

There was something in the air; smoke, maybe, from the kitchens. Kate sniffed, saw Isabella lift her head, do the same. A hammering at the door, and someone tried it. Isabella had bolted it from inside.

"Sheriff! My lady! Fire!"

The smell of smoke was stronger; to Kate's horror she saw it curl through the lock. "Isabella!"

But Isabella was already moving, pulling her dress over her head. There was the crash of a box emptying on the floor.

"Isabella! Untie me!"

Isabella knelt down, stood up with a small bag in her hand. "No time," she said, calmly. "The fire might be nearly on us." She pulled the bolt back, opened the door onto the smoke filled corridor and ran out, coughing.

Kate struggled with the ties around her wrists and ankles, but they just tightened. She didn't want to die like this. The smoke was filling the room, now; she gasped for breath. Then someone was in the room, looking at the bed.

"Oh God. Kate. Kate!"

Much. Kate almost cursed. But if this was a rescue... "Is there a fire?"

"No." He was trying not to look at her. "Just smoke."

"In that case shut the damn door before everyone comes in."

He slammed it, locked it, stayed with his back to her. "What should I do?"

He could hardly rescue her like that. Stupid bloody man. "Get your knife out, untie my hand, then give me the knife."

Much nodded, turned and knelt down by her hand, above her head. If he looked down he would see the curve of her breasts... "Hurry up!"

He sliced through the cord and she snatched the knife from his hand. "Now turn your back. "

She cut herself free, picked up her chemise, still ripped. It would have to do. Her other clothes were hanging over a chair. As she went to get them someone hammered on the door.

"Much? Kate?"

Robin. She pulled her blouse over her head. "Just a moment, Robin. I'm all right. Much is here."

Kate dressed hurriedly, unbolted the door, fell into Robin's arms, found herself crying again. "I thought...What took you so long?"

"I'm sorry." He was gentle. "It was difficult to get into the castle, this time. Isabella's smarter than her brother."

"Isabella. Did you catch her?"

"She got away in the smoke, I'm afraid. Did she hurt you?"

"No." Simultaneously Much said, quietly, "Yes." He was looking at the blood stains on the white bed linen.

"No!" She snapped at Much. "A scratch or two, that's all." She stepped back into the room, yanked the cover over the bed. "Now can we please go home?" The pain between her legs was still sharp.

She caught a few moments alone with Much, who was almost too embarrassed to speak to her.

"Don't tell anyone. Anyone. Not Robin, not anyone." He nodded. "I won't. But, are you all right? Really?"

"I will be. Provided that you don't go blurting your mouth off, Much."

"I said that I wouldn't." She had no time for his hurt feelings. God. Why couldn't it have been any other man in the world, but Much?

It was Tuck who got the whole story out of her. He was dismissive of her worst fears. "Virginity is given by God to a woman, until she bestows it on a man. If you have not lain with a man, you are a virgin still." He seemed to regard what had happened between her and Isabella as no more than a slightly distasteful game, such as women without men might get drawn into; Guy's laying his hands on her to rip her chemise was in his eyes far more serious an offence against her modesty.

She told him, too, how she'd wished that it were any man but Much who had found her uncovered. Tuck did shake his head at that.

"How many men, Kate, could you be certain would take no advantage of your helplessness? Would not at least look, if nothing else?"

She shrugged. "Five, I suppose?" Six.

"So of all the men in the world, don't you think it was fortunate that it was one of those five who found you? However embarrassing you might have found it?"

Kate hadn't thought of it quite that way. She managed to smile at Much, next time she saw him, throwing him into confusion.

She thought, after that, that she was recovered. She could hear all the news about the new Sheriff without barely a thought of that bed. It was only when Robin announced, with a great deal of satisfaction, that he'd heard that Gisborne was to be executed the next day, that she broke down in tears. He was all sympathy, arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Kate. I should have realised, that you'd be thinking about your brother."

That made her cry harder. Of course she should have been thinking about him. Not the man who'd refused to lay a hand on her out of sheer pride, not compassion. Still, it was only when the next day was done, with her enemy not dead but somewhere in Sherwood, free, that she was finally able to curl up in her bunk in the camp and sleep like the child that she used to be.

 

THE END


End file.
